


Piano Lessons

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, everything is great and nothing hurts, im very happy with this one, piano lessons, the bunker, there is just so much cute you guys oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between hunts, Sam discovers a piano and Lucifer uncovers hidden talents. Also, Dean meddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This was written for the AMAZING letseatpeople. She's awesome, and my new fic-partner. In exchange for a Samifer story about rubber ducks and paper airplanes, she requested Sam teaching Lucifer to play the piano, combined with Dean's musical taste and Norwegian fanboys. I hope this lives up to your standards :)

There’s a strange sound floating through the bunker. It’s high and airy, light and sweet, with an undertone of sadness. The sound wanders through the hallways, echoing off the stone walls and seeping through the air vents, like it’s determined that everyone will hear it.

Lucifer follows the quiet strains of music, wondering who it was that was making this music. It almost certainly wasn’t Dean – he would never play this breezy, arid tune in place of his guitar solos and old rock. Perhaps Kevin, though he was really more inclined towards the cello. Did Castiel know how to play the piano? Lucifer wasn’t sure. This certainly seemed like something that Castiel might play, if he did know how.

He’s pleased to find that he was wrong. Sam is the one making this music, seated behind an elderly baby grand piano with his back to Lucifer. The music never faltered, even as Lucifer came up behind Sam and propped his chin on the Winchester’s head, their bodies aligned together, as they always tended to be.

The music eventually trickles away, the song at last over, and Sam looks from the keys to Lucifer’s face. He’s frowning at the piano, obviously confused, and turns his confusion on Sam. “I didn’t know you could play piano,” Lucifer says thoughtfully, arms sliding around Sam’s middle.

Sam relaxes against him, eyes falling closed. “I learned the basics when I was little. Pretty much taught myself everything else.”

Lucifer hums into Sam’s hair. “Will you play another piece?”

Sam doesn’t respond, just opens his eyes and holds his fingers over the keys, thinking for a moment before launching into another piece. This one flows around them like a river parting around stones, rippling through the air pleasantly. Lucifer watches Sam’s hands move over the keys, the confidence he has in knowing which key will produce which sound, knowing how the pressure of the foot pedals will change that sound.

They spend the rest of the day in front of the piano, Sam’s hands creating music for Lucifer’s wanting ears.

* * *

 

“I’m bored,” Lucifer announces regally, sprawled across Sam’s bed as though it were his throne.

Sam finishes toweling off his wet hair, and spares a glance at Lucifer. He has that look on his face that suggests certain activities, which Sam isn’t really opposed to, but Dean’s been getting restless and it’s still early morning. He doesn’t want to get busy just for Dean to waltz in and tell him they’re going on a hunt.

He’s taking too long. He can tell by the way Lucifer stretches on the bed, back arching like a cat, and the way he whines, “ _Sa-am_ ,” all high and annoying like a five year old.

Sam nods to himself, coming to a decision. He tugs on a shirt, runs a hand through his hair, and makes for the door. He hears the bed frame creak a little as Lucifer sits up. “Sam?”

“You said you were bored,” Sam says, turning back to grin at him. “How do you feel about learning something new?”

Lucifer hops off the bed and follows Sam down the hallways of the bunker, back to the room where the baby grand piano was placed. He peers at Sam curiously, wondering what exactly Sam is going to try to teach him. When Sam gestured at the piano bench, looking strangely eager, Lucifer sat.

He watched as Sam lifted the lid from the keys, their positions reversed from how they were when Lucifer first found him here. Now, Sam is pressed against Lucifer’s back, and his hands are over top of Lucifer’s, puppeteering them to hover over the keys. Lucifer watches his hands as Sam moves them, creating a simple, rich-toned tune that only lasted for a couple of minutes.

Lucifer blinks up at Sam. “Are you going to teach me how to play the piano?” he asks, a small smile curling on his lips.

Sam smiles back at him. “I can if you’d like me to,” he offers, sitting down on the bench next to him.

“Yes,” Lucifer agrees instantly. “How did you play that song?”

Sam laughs slightly. “Whoa, hold up, how about we start with something simpler, like the scale?”

They spend an hour going over the names of keys and the important differences between major and minor. By the end of the next hour, Sam’s teaching Lucifer how to play simple songs. By the end of the week, Lucifer is playing Beethoven with glee, while Sam sits in the room with him, reading and researching and some days just leaning back and enjoying the music.

Dean wanders in one day while Sam is playing and Lucifer is staring at his hands to memorize their movements, and rolls his eyes. “C’mon, dude, classical music? _Really?”_

Sam doesn’t even blink. The piano is suddenly producing sounds that are far more familiar to Dean, the strains of AC/DC’s _Highway to Hell_ falling into the air. Dean laughs, shaking his head, and walks out of the room. Lucifer is now staring at Sam.

“What?” Sam doesn’t understand the look.

“How do you do that?” Lucifer demands, waving a hand at the keys. “Just off the top of your head, how many songs can you play?”

“Uh,” Sam’s whole face screws up as his thinks. “I dunno. How many songs do you think Dean has in his car?”

“Sam. Your brother has the entirety of classic rock in his car,” Lucifer reminds him.

“Oh. Well, then I guess the entirety of classic rock, plus the Beatles, and a few songs I made up,” Sam shrugs.

“And you can just play all of them by ear.”

Sam shrugs again. “Pretty much, yeah. I’ve spent literally my whole life listening to the same music, so it isn’t that difficult to remember how each song goes.”

“Teach me.”

“Teach you what? How to play by ear?”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Lucifer is nothing if not determined. Sam guides him through the process of recognizing notes as they’re being played on other instruments in varying keys, and helps him out by humming whatever song he’s perfecting that day under his breath. But otherwise? He doesn’t get a chance to do a whole lot. Lucifer is scary intelligent, and ridiculously stubborn, with a flawless memory. Learning to play an instrument is easy for him. Mastery comes in a matter of weeks.

And if that mastery comes by way of an odd mixture of Beethoven and classic rock covers, well, then who really cares?

The answer to that question is apparently _the entire fucking internet_. Dean had at some point put multiple cameras in the piano room, and hidden them well enough that Sam hadn’t suspected a thing until he glanced at a news website and saw that they were broadcasting a video of Lucifer playing the piano. Specifically, him playing Metallica’s _Enter Sandman_ with Sam sitting in the background reading a book.

Dean and probably Kevin had gone through the trouble of making a Youtube account and loading it with videos of Lucifer playing the piano. And if the number of views on the videos were to go by, they were pretty popular. A little bit of hacking found that they were, strangely enough, the most popular in _Norway._ Of all the places.

Lucifer doesn’t think the fact he’s on the internet is funny or cool at all. In fact, he very nearly yells at Dean about it. Sam thinks his brother is a jerk for doing this without asking them, given that Sam is in the video for most of these and it’s only a matter of time before some crazy asshole realizes that the man sitting in the background reading is, in fact, a supposedly dead serial killer.

But when Lucifer’s videos start getting comments that follow the line of “Hey, you haven’t put out any videos for a while, and you’re really good, so when are you going to put up more?” he relents to the idea of letting Dean post more videos. Sam is careful to keep himself out of the background, but Lucifer eventually forces him to go back to his old seat, and even gets him to play a few songs. He does this at the behest of the internet and the (oddly) mostly Norwegian fanbase to Lucifer has going, because they were asking “where the cute man in the background went.”

Sam wants to protest. He really, _really_ does. But Lucifer looks so happy when he’s playing, and it’s gotten to the point where he _likes_ having these videos up for everyone to see. So he won’t protest, because it makes Lucifer happy, and Sam can never make a list of things that make him genuinely happy that’s actually long enough. In fact, that list pretty much seems to consist of “If it makes Sam happy, then it makes me happy,” which is just not okay. It is _so far_ from okay.

But the videos make Lucifer happy because _they make him happy_ , so Sam won’t protest. He doesn’t think he’s capable of protesting, honestly. And he thinks that’s okay.


End file.
